The Night of the Blackbird

The Night of the Blackbird



While I listen to the voice
of the blackbird
I look at your face
wondering
why why why
it's impossible to change past

I think of a thousand things
no clear thought
stands out
from the crowd
that stirs stirs stirs
in my mind
screaming words
that cover each others

everything could be so simple
like the games of childs
but you
have made me grave
of your dreams
and mines

we are dead and alive
under layers of time
turned into stones
over our heads

while I listen to the voice
of the blackbird
singing singing singing
to the night
to the stars
that are still what they are
inertia over inertia
like our life